


Obedience Lesson

by Microdigitalwaker



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Apologies, M/M, Masturbation, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-26 22:44:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20749997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Microdigitalwaker/pseuds/Microdigitalwaker
Summary: Set soon after Reese's time in prison.





	1. Chapter 1

'Would you like to play a game?"

Reese blinked sleepily, gently pushing Bear, on the other end of battered leather couch, had been snoring at his feet. It had been that kind of morning, achingly slow, when he'd spent more time with watching rain drops racing down the window pane. 

"Yeah," he replies, muffling a yawn. Finch's feet are inexplicably unshod; he's wearing a pair of heather grey socks that Reese finds almost unbearably interested in stroking. Finch grabs Reese hand, pulling him toward the workstation, as determined as the Little Engine that Could. 

Reese is mystified. Finch's hand is trembling.

Finch takes his a seat at his work chair, motioning to the bare space at his desk, where a bevy of peripheral devices, monitor, mice and keyboards, have been swept aside.

"Sit."

If Finch takes his time finishing whatever it is he's doing at his computer while Reese sits, feet dangling, it's no problem - Finch's power plays rarely are, especially after the debacle that left Reese imprisoned. If only he had listened. Lost in thought, Reese twitches as he finds himself the object of his boss's undivided attention. Nervously clearing his throat, Finch places a hand just above Reese's knees.

"Spread them, please."

It's remarkable how quickly Reese's body obeys.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wished for second chapter!

"Like this? Reese asks, firmly grasping the root of his dick, the fingers of his left hand barely spanning his girth.

Finch rolls his eyes. 'Like that and you'll come in no time. It's like that song, the one by 38 Special." He waves his hand, gesturing. "You know...." 

Reese does know. He says nothing.

"Are you going to make me sing?"

Reese gestures at his erection poking from his flies; Finch hums then, chants more than truly sings:

"Just hold on loosely  
But don't let go  
If you cling to tightly  
You're gonna lose control."

"I'd clap if I could," Reese says deadpan, not knowing if a giggle or frustrated whimper will escape him.

Finch frowns. "Control is the name of the game..."

"Didn't think it was called Hungry, Hungry Hippos," wheezes Reeese.

Ignoring him, Finch continues. "You aren't allowed to achieve orgasm until I say you may."

Achieve orgasm? Finch's prissy terminology alone is apt to make him blow his load.

"You are going to let me?" It comes out sounding a little scared because Finch pets his knees, giving reassuring squeezes.

"Of course, John. Of course, and you won't need to hold out for long, I promise." Finch clears his throat again. "Do you, do you need any lube?"

Reese does like things slick and decreasing friction is to his advantage. "Yes."

"I typically don't need it, but I've got something...here!"

Finch pulls an half-used tube of KY jelly from his favorite toolbox, unphased but Reese is reeling, bursting with questions such as, "Why don't you need lube?" and "Why keep it if you don't need it?"

"I'm not circumcised," Finch admits, whispering, the tips of his ears burning red as he drizzles the lube along the length of Reese's erection. "Having a foreskin means..."

"Shhhh! Please stop," begs Reese, overwhelmined, nearly doubling over which leaves Finch's tea mug hitting the floor, unharmed.

Finch lurches to his feet so he's an inch from Reese's ear. "I keep the lube handy. I can't tell you how many times I've thought of taking you, of bending you over this very desk...."

Reese comes, sobbing, clutching Finch with his free arm as comes, sobbing because what was Finch's game but a test and one he's just spectacularly failed.

"I'm sorry, Harold," he whimpers against Finch's throat, ready to apologize for his sudden nutting, for ruining the game before it had a chance to start but what he says is a fundamental truth, "I'm sorry I disregarded your orders. I'm sorry I didn't listen and got caught and, and..."

Ignoring the strands of semen that are everywhere, Finch holds Reese close, kissing his neck murmuring, "There, there," and "Thank, you."

Rubbing his leaking nose against the sleeve of his ruined suit, Reese asks, " Thanks for what? I ruined your game."

Finch kisses him, on the lips this time. "Mr. Reese, you did no such thing."


End file.
